The Small Things
by Gedia Kacela
Summary: It was the small things, Hermione finally realized, that were important. They were the things you had never noticed and the ones that you wished you had. They were unexpected, but then again, the best surprises were those most unexpected.


The Small Things  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Severus or anyone else from the HP world, though Merlin, I wish Snape was mine.  
  
Author's Note: I blame Bohemian Storm for this story... she'll see why. This is my first and hopefully LAST story of this pairing... but the idea popped into my head and my muse wouldn't let it go. Stubborn thing.  
  
Dedicated to you, Storm love.   
  
***  
  
It was a warm, sunny day outside, but for some reason, Hermione didn't notice the sun, couldn't feel the heat. She was cold and empty, something that she should not be on her graduation. She had been Head Girl, top of her class, with excellent marks. She had two of the best friends in the world standing only feet away from her, and Voldemort had been dead for a year.  
  
And yet, she could not find it within herself to be happy.  
  
In truth, she didn't want to leave the grounds of Hogwarts. She didn't want to set foot into a place where she wouldn't be a Gryffindor anymore, wouldn't wear her school uniform or sit in ancient desks listening to daily lessons. She didn't want to wake up in the morning and not have to set foot inside the dark, dank Potions room.  
  
The sudden thought of Potions class made her heart give a strange lurch. She would never have to bend over a cauldron for so long that her back ached, wouldn't have to burn her fingers on a bubbling concoction, wouldn't have to face Professor Snape's disdainful sneer or steel herself against his biting comments.  
  
But wait... shouldn't that be a *good* thing? She had hated Potions class with a passion, despised Snape with all her being. She had never wanted to walk down in that horrid dungeon again.  
  
So why did she long to hear the sounds of her footsteps echo off those dank walls again? Why did she become short of breath every time she saw a swish of dark robes? What the hell was wrong with her?  
  
She gripped her hands together, staring around at the gathering of people. Everyone had come to congratulate the new graduates, but right now, she simply needed to be alone. From the refreshment table, she could see Ron and Harry gesturing for her to join them. Harry had his arm around Ginny's waist and Ron was talking to some pretty Ravenclaw. She didn't belong there. She shook her head at them with a small smile and turned, disappearing inside Hogwarts.  
  
Without really knowing how, she found herself in the dungeons. Her heels clicked more loudly than usual against the stone, filling the empty halls with sound. She stopped outside the Potions classroom, her fingers tracing the depressions in the wood of the door. Strange how she had never noticed the snake carved along the upper corner of the door.  
  
It was like how she had never noticed how blue the sky could be, or how much love you could feel for a person when it was almost too late. It was all the small things you missed, the things that you could never see at the time because you were blinded by the things that you thought were once so important.  
  
She almost smiled. It sounded like something she should have used in her Graduation speech. But that was all over. Everything.  
  
With a sigh, she pushed on the door and it swung easily open. The room seemed... smaller than usual and very, very empty. There were no cauldrons bubbling, no quills scratching away desperately, no hard-eyed teacher breathing oppressively down their necks.  
  
She could still remember the first day of class, with Snape's biting, "Sit down, you silly girl." She had hated him from that very moment on and had never hesitated in her loathing of him. She hated his sallow skin, his black-on-black eyes, his hawkish nose, his long, raven-black hair... She hated the way he moved about with hardly a sound, the way his robes swished around his thin form... she hated him... didn't she?  
  
"So why are you here?" screamed her inner voice. The truth was, she didn't know.  
  
She sunk into the chair behind Snape's desk, resting her cheek against the cool wood. She reached out a lazy hand and lightly fingered the green feathered quill protruding from the ink well. She'd always loved that quill, loved the way it bent and waved in his long fingers, the way he touched it lightly to his face as he fell into thought.  
  
Mesmerized by the green feathered thing in her fingers, she didn't noticed as a second figure joined her in the room.  
  
He watched her as she played with the quill, tracing her feminine features with it and touching it to lips that had grown fuller and redder over the years. For the life of him he couldn't remember when that had happened. As a matter of fact, he didn't recall her hair calming into gentle curls or her front teeth becoming less pronounced. When had she gotten so damn beautiful?  
  
Merlin, what was wrong with him? She was a student. Well... actually, she wasn't. She was eighteen and just graduated. But still, to be thinking such things... surely it wasn't right.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Surely you do not think that simply because you were Head Girl that it gives you clearance to trespass into my classroom, do you Miss Granger?"  
  
She started visibly, dropping the feather and scooting back in the chair, a fearful expression on her face. "P-p-professor Snape!"  
  
He frowned at her. "That is my name. At least you have not forgotten everything I have attempted in vain to teach you bunch of dunderheads." She didn't know what to say to him. She had never known what to say to the man. His very presence had always quite suddenly rendered her speechless.  
  
He loomed over her, his eyes scowling into hers, his black robes sliding easily over his broad chest and slipping down to pool around his feet on the floor. "What's wrong, Granger? Cat got your tongue? Pity it couldn't have happened earlier, say during your speech."  
  
She stared at him, hating him more and more with every second that ticked by. How dare he insult her! She was no longer under his thumb. He couldn't simply terrorize her with his cruelty anymore. She didn't have to put up with it anymore. It wasn't like he could give her a detention, for Merlin's sake!  
  
She got to her feet, her lips itching to spew some horrid remark at him, to cut him down to proper size for once in his miserable life. But the words died on her lips as her eyes met his, and she could suddenly only think of one thing to do to the man she had hated for the past seven years.  
  
She kissed him.  
  
Years after that, she would never be sure exactly what happened, but suddenly, her lips were pressing against Severus Snape's. She heard him take a sharp intake of air, but he didn't pull away. In fact, seconds later she felt his hands come up to grasp her arms, pulling her closer instead of shoving her back, as she had fully expected.  
  
She fell deeper and deeper into the kiss, their warm mouths practically fighting for dominance. Her arms clasped around his neck as he took possession of her body. He crushed her body against his, his hand tangling in her auburn curls.  
  
She dug her nails into the back of his neck, needing more of his insistent mouth. "I... hate you," she gasped into his lips.  
  
"I know," he growled, biting at her lower lip, tugging it gently towards him.  
  
"I do," she murmured helplessly, falling with him as he sat back in the chair. His hands pulled her fearfully close, desperate to touch her with all the pent-up frustrations of the years. He wanted her, *needed* her. She responded to him with equal fervor, clutching his arms and digging her fists into his robes.  
  
"Professor," she gasped.  
  
He stopped suddenly, giving her a cold look. "Please, Miss Granger, do not call me that while we are doing *that,* if you do not mind."  
  
"Sorry." She met his gaze with an equally frigid one of her own. "Then do not call me Miss Granger."  
  
He looked slightly surprised at her boldness... but then again, she had just been the one to kiss him. "Very well."  
  
"Well," she swallowed hard. "Now that we have an understanding."  
  
He pushed her off his lap, standing abruptly. "We have no understanding, Miss Granger. Only a mistake." He pointed to the door. "You found your way in, I presume you can find your way out as well."  
  
She flushed deeply. "As long as I'm not as big a dunderhead as I usually am, correct Professor?"  
  
"Correct. Now out."  
  
She drew herself up, her head held high to hide the redness of her freckled cheeks. "Very well." She bent to pick up the quill that had fallen to the floor, and when she straightened, Snape was standing right in front of her, his breathing slightly heavy and irregular.  
  
He gripped her wrist tightly. "Sit down, you silly girl." The tone he used was entirely different from the one he had used the first day of class. This one was throaty, lusty, desperate... and yet still demanding as he usually was. Some things, she supposed, would never change.  
  
Without a word, she dropped into the chair, watching as he strode over to the door, closing it firmly and locking it. Her brown eyes took him in, with his long dark hair, obsidian eyes, powerful hands that ached to hold her again.  
  
It was then, as Severus lowered himself onto the ground to kiss her again, that she truly realized that it really was the small things in life that mattered, the ones that you were glad you would never have to miss again.  
  
END 


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